Opposites Attract

old and he can move like lightning. Mom’s thrilled to chase him around for a few weeks. She sends her love,” she told Ty. “You know how she feels about long plane flights.”
    “Yeah.” He released his sister to retrieve his bag and racket. “I talked to her just last night; she didn’t say anything about your coming.”
    “We wanted to surprise you.” Smug, Jess hooked her hand into Mac’s. “Mac thought Paris was the perfect place for a second honeymoon.” She sent her husband a brief but intimate look. Their fingers tightened.
    “The trick was getting her away from Pete for two weeks.” He gave Ty a grin. “You were a bigger incentive than Paris.” Bending, he kissed the top of his wife’s head. “She dotes on Pete.”
    “No, I don’t,” Jess disagreed, then grinned. “Well, I wouldn’t if Pete weren’t such a smart baby.”
    Mac began to unpack an old, favored pipe. “She’s ready to enroll him in Harvard.”
    “Next year,” Jess responded dryly. “So, you’re going in as top seed,” she continued, giving her full attention to her brother. Was there some strain around his eyes? she wondered, then quickly discounted it. “Martin’s proud enough to bust.”
    “I was hoping he might make it out for the tournament.” Ty glanced toward the empty stands. “Funny, I still have a habit of looking for him before a match.”
    “He wanted to be here. If there had been any way for him to postpone this trial, but . . .” Jess trailed off and smiled. “Mac and I will have to represent the family.”
    Ty slung the bag over his shoulder. “You’ll do fine. Where are you staying?”
    “At the—” Jess’s words came to a stop as she spotted a slender blonde crossing an empty court a short distance away. Reaching up, she brushed at her brow as if pushing aside an errant strand of hair. “Asher,” she murmured.
    Ty twisted his head. Asher wasn’t aware of them, as Chuck was keeping her involved in what appeared to be a long, detailed description of a match. “Yes,” Ty said softly. “Asher.” He kept his eyes on her, watching the movements of her body beneath the loosely fitting jogging suit. “Didn’t you know she was here?”
    “Yes, I—” Jess broke off helplessly. How could she explain the flurry of feelings that she experienced in seeing Asher Wolfe again. The years were winked away in an instant. Jess could see the cool blue eyes, hear the firmly controlled voice. At the time there’d been no doubt in her mind about right and wrong. Even the chain reaction that had begun on a hazy September afternoon had only served to cement Jess’s certainty. Now there’d been a divorce, and Asher was back. She felt her husband’s warm palm against hers. Right and wrong weren’t so clearly defined any longer.
    A bubble of nausea rose as she turned to her brother. He was still watching Asher. Had he loved her? Did he still? What would he do if he ever learned of his sister’s part in what had happened three years before? Jess found the questions trembling on her tongue and was afraid of the answers. “Ty . . .”
    His eyes were dark and stormy, a barometer of emotion. Something in them warned Jess to keep her questions to herself. Surely there would be a better time to bring up the past. She had both a sense of reprieve and a feeling of guilt.
    “Beautiful, isn’t she?” he asked lightly. “Where did you say you were staying?”
    ***
    “And because he’s eighteen and played like a rocket in the qualifying rounds, they’re muttering about an upset.” Chuck tossed a tennis ball idly, squeezing it when it returned to his palm. “I wouldn’t mind if he weren’t such a little twerp.”
    Asher laughed and snatched the ball as Chuck tossed it again. “And eighteen,” she added.
    He gave a snort. “He wears designer underwear, for God’s sake. His mother has them dry-cleaned.”
    “Down boy,” Asher warned good-naturedly. “You’ll feel better once you wipe him out in the quarterfinals. Youth versus experience,” she added because she couldn’t resist. Chuck twisted a lock of her hair around his finger and pulled.
    “You meet Rayski,” he commented. “I guess we could call that two old pros.”
    Asher winced. “Your point,” she conceded. “So, what’s your strategy for this afternoon?”
    “To beat the tar out of him,” Chuck responded instantly, then grinned as he flexed his racket arm. “But if he gets lucky, I’ll leave it up to Ty to smash